


Over the Rainbow

by jellyfishandtuna



Series: After the Fall [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Attempted Kidnapping, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, M/M, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Omega John, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Protective Mycroft, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:30:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfishandtuna/pseuds/jellyfishandtuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight months after the fall. Sherlock has convinced Mycroft to set up several surveillance cameras in the flat at 221B that are linked to only his mobile device. The brooding and thought to be dead Alpha let's sentiment get the better of him as he figures out a way to destroy the last of Moriarty's network and find his way back to his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vanilla and Mint

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Omega Verse fanfic.  
> It honestly just popped into my head.  
> Standard warnings of sexual play and emotional loss is in this first chapter.  
> Sorry if it kills anyone's feels.  
> Also, I didn't have time to edit this chapter. 

It was unsettling at best to hear the younger Holmes brother begging. Mycroft could do nothing more than huff over the phone, listening to the longing that was in his voice. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to have the air ripped from your lungs?" If Mycroft didn't know better, he could here the sad sentiment rolling from his brother's tongue.

"He's out of the flat tomorrow for surgery. The best time to do it." Sherlock all but snapped. Being this far away from his mate was making his blood boil. 

The Iceman's cold stare was met with a pair of eyes that still to this day took his breathe away. Greg Lestrade was the first Beta to rise through the ranks to get Detective Inspector and as a hand was rested on top of cold Alpha's that he stared at, Mycroft entire manner seemed to soften. "Alright, Sherlock. To ease your worried mind." The mobile is removed from his ear and placed on the desk. 

"He needs this, My. Don't deny him." A small reassuring smile across the DI's lips.

\----------

The sound of gun fire broke whatever silence there was and snapped Sherlock to full attention. The mobile device was once again shoved into the pocket of his Belstaff and he was up on his feet. Arabic in nature was the yells that flooded after him, he couldn't get caught. There was too much work to be done. Three months, that's the time frame that he'd given to drive the rest of this madman's forces into the ground. His family would be safe and as much as it killed Sherlock to form sentiment, it didn't take his genius mind long to wrap around what had to be done.

"I will burn the heart out of you."

Those eight small words burning into the back of Sherlock's mind were enough to keep him going. His heart rested with John Watson in a small flat snug in the middle of London. Another round of bullets whizzed by the consulting detective's head before he ducked into a small building. Rumble crumbling under the weight as he breathed, trying to gather his surroundings. A small vibrant in his pocket causing him pause.

'Second floor. Black duffle bag.' MH

Well, at least something came from his brother's ever watchful eye. Those sharp pale eyes were scanning to find the staircase before bouncing up the crumbling stone steps. The mobile is shoved into his pants pocket, beloved Belstaff is discarded on the floor. Kneeling beside the small black bag that had been seemingly placed in front of a glass-less window. 

Slender fingers found their way to carefully undue the zipper and eyes sparkled at the marvel of the sniper rifle found within. A smirk across the pale features of Sherlock Holmes before "Good thinking, Brother Mine" was softly whispered in approval. It took him less then a few moments before the rifle was placed together and resting against his shoulder. 

"One little, two little, three little idiots." 

The little song was coming from his lips like butter as the trigger is pulled and released. The three men that were following him fell, not knowing where the silenced bullets were actually coming from. The scene goes quiet as the gun is quickly disassembled and returned to the bag. 

'Please send someone to retrieve the coat when safe.' SH

\----------

There was a smell that hit John's nose the moment that he entered the flat. Two actually, Alpha and Beta. The solider hung his head before walking tiredly up the stairs. The gold band that was never removed from his ring finger sliding down an inch with hands drown to his sides.

"I was wondering when the two of you were going to check up on me." 

Jacket is removed to be placed on the hook, reveling the cream colored jumper that hung loosely over his upper body. "Answer your texts and we wouldn't have to." The Beta moved to embrace his brother-in-law and John was too tired to not welcome it. Mycroft merely stood by Sherlock's chair, hands clasped over the handle of his umbrella. 

"Making sure that the Holmes bloodline is still in one place." His tone colder than he wanted. Greg shooting him a look from over his shoulder.

John pulled from Greg's arms long enough to shoot a glare at the older Holmes before a hand protectively rubbed his swollen stomach. "Safe and sound." The very strong scent of Alpha pheromones filling the air, whether Mycroft knew he was doing it or not. No wonder the two of them used to always be at each other's throat, it was maddening. 

"Tea?" Those steel blue eyes glanced back and forth between the two men before moving into the kitchen. It didn't take a genius to see why Sherlock was pulled to bond with this short, stockier older male Omega. John had always been calm and collective no matter the circumstances. Greg cleared his throat, moving to sit at the kitchen table. "How you doing, John?"

Making the smaller man pause before answering, swallowing the lump that seemed to be lodged under his Adam's apple. "Horrible but as you can tell, still breathing." There was a pause as his hand shifted to his belly. "Somehow." The tiny wonder inside him seemed to shift at the feeling of his hand. "She's doing fine as well. Molly has been a great help. For a Beta she knows more about Omega's then I could ever hope for." A tiny, sad smile graced his face as the kettle came to a boil and the smell of mint filled the air. 

"I didn't use to like mint tea." John chuckled a little. "Here lately, it has become oddly calming." He couldn't stop his own pheromones from filling the air. Distress and sadness and it made Mycroft move closer. Waiting nothing more than to protect and calm but the arm that wrapped around his own stopped him. John was Sherlock's and whether only a handful of people knew that he was alive, that didn't change anything. "I'm fine, Mycroft." John's head snapped up. "Off with the protective Alpha crap, please." 

Mycroft's hand moved to the pocket of his trousers, fingers knowing just where to go over the smooth surface of the mobile before silent buttons are pushed. John moving into the chair facing Greg, sighing. "I've less then two weeks and I am absolutely horrified." Hands wrapping around the warmth of his tea mug. "The future... one without him... it terrifies me but I know that as long as I have the two of you." A small glance and a forced smile as he looked at the two men. "We'll be alright." God, he hated these damn submissive hormones that were raging in his body. Waiting nothing more than to curl in a ball and cry. 

"Got names then?" 

"Several but the only one that sticks is Madeleine." 

Just the name seemed to make Mycroft tense. His... their Mother's name. God rest that poor woman's soul. A smile tugged at the corner of Mycroft's usually indifferent features before his hand settled on Greg's shoulder. "It's a wonderful choice, John." He cleared his throat of whatever sentiment still lingered and squeezed. Greg taking the point. 

"Text mate. Call. Anything. We do worry." The Beta's shifted, placing a loving kiss on his brother-in-laws brow before he rose. "Come on, My." The two men left the flat together, not noticing that Greg at some point had taken his hand. 

John sighed, leaning back against the hardness of the kitchen chair and smoothed a hand over his stomach. "Madeleine Sophia." There was a shift at the name as a tiny foot seemed to kick at the feeling. A smile crossed his face before a tear rolled from the corner of his clenched tight eyes.

\----------

Sherlock could do nothing more than growl as the conversation filter through the ear plug that was so tight in his ear it caused him pain. "Two weeks." Came the calm hiss. "He shouldn't be going through this alone." The ping in his heart was slowly killing him. The longing to be near his mate, the bond that would never come for the parents of that wonder creature growing in John's belly.

"The camera's are in place. Uploading the link to your e-mail." It was Greg's voice. Mycroft of course, had been called away. "He's healthy, Sherlock. She's healthy." Trying to keep his voice steady, feeling the ready to kill someone's Alpha rage through the phone. "Oi. I've known you longer than anyone, mate. You'll be together again soon. Just bloody keep your head in the game." 

Sherlock's phone beeped, causing his over active brain to calm for a moment. Scanning over the camera feeds, seeing John shift around the flat. "There's two camera's. One in the living area, one in the bedroom. It took some." Greg cleared his throat. "Some convincing for that one." But there was a smile that shown through his voice. Just move between the little 1 and 2 icon in the corner, yeah." 

"Thank you."

There was actually a warm tone to Sherlock's voice when he spoke. "Be there for him, Greg. Child birth can be... trying at best and I don't want him to go through it alone." 

Greg chuckled. "I'll do what I can. He's got Molly looking over him from time to time. Whatever is running through his mind, he wants an at home birth. Even if she told him it's a bit dangerous." There was a clicking of laptop keys as Greg checked a few things. "For the time being, he's no idea that anything is different. Real time so whenever you want, you can check in."

There was a pause. "He still texts me." It broke Greg's heart. 

"We told him that we buried your phone with ya. Poor bloke. It's a true sign that there will never be no one else. Funny, when a bond is broken in death, one usually follows. Did he know that he was pregnant when you jumped?"

Another pause. "No." 

"Bloody hell. That explains it. Watson is a strong man, Sherlock. You should be proud."

"More than you know." 

His pale gaze never leaving the camera feed as he spoke. It calmed him. Even just this, his mind went to a safe place. Locked away in this strange hotel room in the middle of a war zone. His mind calmed looking at his best friend, his mate. "Alright, I'll leave you too it then." There was no goodbyes, just a disconnected line and Sherlock's full attention was turned to his mobile. Taking the moment to plug the charger into it before stretching out on the bed. It wasn't home but this helped. 

Sharp pale eyes narrowed as John picked up his phone, sitting on the edge of the bed. Short breathes, Sherlock closed his eyes. Feeling the distress even over the distance of space. The vibration of this phone the only thing pulling him back into the now.

'I miss you, you stupid genius git. I fucking miss you so bad. It hurts to breathe. You're a selfish bastard and I love you.'

The text came across the little window of his mobile, eyes not leaving the room as John broke down into tears. Curling into his body. Sherlock's pillow brought to his face as John inhaled. "It's lingering." He was talking to himself. "But it's leaving." Sherlock didn't remember falling asleep, wishing nothing more than to wrap his arms around his mate and comfort him. It was fleeting to say the least but together they fell asleep, clutching at pillows, wishing for something more.

"Sherlock."

The voice that came through the ear piece was dripping with lust. It was the wee hours of the morning for both of them and it didn't take his genius mind to understand what was happening. Even in this sleep haze that he didn't wish to be pulled from, there was that lovable whine that drew him. Going down his spine and straight to his cock that jumped inside his trousers. "Sherlock." 

Hearing the short, small moans before shifting in the hotel bed to lie on his back. John, his John was dreaming and from the sounds of it, the dream had completely overtook his sense of grief for the moment. Another moan as slender digits wrap around his own growing erection. Sherlock's eyes stayed locked shut on the sounds that his partner were making. 

"John." 

The name caught in his own throat along with a moan that seemed to echo around the stillness of the room. Pumping himself to keep up with John as the orgasm that crashed into his mate's body left him nothing more than a crumbled heap in the middle of their bed. It didn't take Sherlock long before a warm stream of stickiness met his hand. The panting from John's end was quickly replaced with a quiet sob. Both men quickly falling back asleep. Oh this was going to kill him.

'You need to move. Forces are closing in.' MH

The phone had went quiet and the vibration had woke him from a restless sleep. The feed is quickly replaced by the text window and Sherlock narrowed sleepy eyes at the screen. It didn't take long for the hazy lust of the night's actions to clear his from his mind, being pushed behind the door marked "John" and quickly closing. He would have to revisit that room later. 

It took several moments for the slender, length man to dress, shoving what few possessions that he owed in the duffle bag and fully dressed. His skin more pale than normal but he didn't have time to fully take care of himself. Catching sleep and meals whenever he could but now that he knew there was a way to check in on John, it made this a little more bearable. The room is left with nothing more than wanton pheromones and his lingering scene. Even the Beta that came hours later to clean the room was taken back by it. Trying to place the scent but it was one that only John would be able to notice.

Vanilla and Mint. 

'Moran is getting on a plane in less then an hour. It took several operatives and some small suggesting to get this information out of a rather interesting individual. He is armed. Handgun is taped to the back of the toilet in room 223. Be careful, Brother Mine. No need being an idiot this early in the game.' MH

'Observe. And did you just call me an idiot.' SH

'Obviously.' MH 

There was a smirk that crossed Sherlock's features as he slide his card, the door to room 223 opening. Moving through the room and finding the gun right where mentioned. 

'Extra clip is above the sink. Top shelf. Thank god you are tall.' MH

Sherlock graced at his phone.

'Not the time to be making jokes about ones appearance, Mycroft. Or is your treadmill feeling lonely.' SH

'Doubtful. Since meeting Gregory, I'm the picture of health.' MH

There was a pause in conversation as Sherlock took the pistol and the clip, unzipping the bag and stuffing it inside. Taking the moment to run a hand through his unruly nest of dark curls. 

'You never did thank me for that.' SH 

'The sentiment is an understatement as far as he is concerned. I shall have to thank you more personality when you are safely back in London.' MH

'Indeed.' Another pause. 'Check on John later. If nothing else, send Molly. I'm worried about him.' SH

'You and I both, Brother Mine.' MH

'Going silent, Blood.' SH

Retreating steps silently feel across the carpet and the locking snap of the door to 223 is heard. Nothing more than a head of dark brown hair bouncing down the stairs before disappearing in the blinding bright sun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wrote and re-wrote this chapter several times. I ended up not saving it the first time and deleting it the second. Sorry it's taken so long for the update.

A busy little place to say the least. Faces a blur, conversations that mesh together, and the noise. It's all Sherlock can do to keep his mind where it needs to be. 

"Moran is a ruthless killer." Mycroft's voice finally broke through the fuzz and for a moment, Sherlock had forgotten that he was talking to him.

"He will do anything to enact revenge, Sherlock." Was that a small hint of concern?

"Details on his appearance?" Was all the consulting detective said. 

"Sending the photo up-link now."

Sherlock once again placed the ear piece in. Moran was tell, Alpha. Sandy blonde, buzz cut. Military in every sense of the word. He huffed in the tiny speaker. 

"Extreme caution." Mycroft warned. "I have several people in place at the security terminal so that shouldn't be problematic." 

Sherlock smirked, fingers running through dark curls as the bag was placed on the belt. The green eyes of Mycroft's man twinkled but his face was stone, letting the bag pass with no fuss.

Stepping through the metal detector, it didn't make a sound. **'Male. Early twenties. Beta. Three cats hates dogs. Lives in his Mother's basement. Does a thing with his tongue that causes his mate to melt.'** Interesting.

"You and your Beta's." Sherlock laughed into the headset. Mycroft did nothing more then snarl. "Did you do what I asked?" 

There was a pause.

"John is fine. Gregory checked on his yesterday morning before he went to work. Seems the closer he get's to delivery, the more put off he get's." 

This made Sherlock growl, that feeling of helplessness in the pit of his stomach wasn't making it better. 

"But is he safe?"

"Yes, Sherlock." Came the short reply. "Not that it matters but have you given any thought to how he will react when you return?"

"I'll cross that bridge when it comes. Going silent."

And the line went dead.

\----------

Sherlock floated through the crowd of people. A blonde wig snatched from the rack of a singer on her way back to the States. A pair of sunglasses grabbed from the bar as their owners attention was turned to a new conquest. A red silk scarf that was draped over a seat finished the mask. Worn proudly but in the back of his mind, he could hear John laughing.

"Ello." Sliding into the seat beside Moran, who seemed to be more interested in his paper than conversation.

"I'm so nervous. Planes, crowds. Oh, my poor nerves!"

The baritone voice replaced with a high pitched echo that broke the noise. Several people seemed to turn to look at him and whisper. Moran didn't pay him any attention. 

"America. Oh it's been so long since I've been. I can't wait." Sherlock started digging through his bag. The Colonel doing nothing more than shifting beside him. There was a loud buzz before a woman voice filtered through the noise. Moran rose from his seat leaving the paper behind him. Sherlock waited before following, loosing his mask as he went. 

He stayed close enough to see Moran's head above the crowd in front of him. It wouldn't take much. One shot to the back of the head and everything would be over. His family safe.

Until his phone rang.

"Change of plans, Sherlock." There was a tone in Mycroft's voice that he didn't like. 

"What happened?"

"Gregory received a call fifteen minutes ago from John's work. He hadn't been there in nearly a day and the receptionist was started to worry. Ended up finding him curled in a ball on top of your ghost grave." Mycroft sighed sadly. 

For the moment, Sherlock's mind went blank. Was he breathing?

"Gate 8 holds a new ticket and your flight back to London. The game is off for the moment. Do not argue." A pause. "He's went into the early stages of labor."

He didn't remember boarding the plane. Didn't remember turning his phone to the camera that was set up in their bedroom. John, laying in the middle of the bed. Molly running her fingers through his hair. There was a peaceful look on John's face. Until a faint groan, resting her hand on top of his tight stomach. 

"I've still got two weeks." Turning to look at Molly with pain in those beautiful blue eyes. 

"Shh." Molly was soothing him before looking straight into the camera, right into Sherlock's pale stare. "It'll be alright." Giving both the men a pleasant smile. "Just rest." 

A slender digit resting where John's cheek would have been. "I'm coming home." His voice was nothing more than a whisper as he closed his eyes.

The plane landed. A head of dark curls blowing in the cool breeze. "Hello, Brother Mine." Mycroft smiled. "Good to see you, Brother Dear." Sherlock breathed in the London air. Waiting until both parties were in the car before he spoke.

"Tell me." Sherlock's voice seemed to crack a bit.

"Stress has sent John's body into a tailspin." Mycroft went silent for the moment. "He's in and out of consciousness, when the contractions don't stir him. He rest's when he came." Sherlock stared at the camera feed. At his John.

"He may not take this well." Mycroft stunned by the soft nature of his brother's voice.

"We can sedate him if need be."

\----------

John groaned, laying on his side as another wave of pain ran down his spine. Molly gently squeezing his hand before glancing at her watch. "I can't do this." A voice so soft she could barely hear it. "It hurts... hurts my soul." She swallowed. "I know, John but it will be over soon. I promise."

Looking up to see Mycroft standing in the doorway. "I'm going to go get you some water." She kissed his brow before letting him go. 

The sun filtered through the living room area. It took her breathe away to see that tall frame casting his shadow once more. Hands clasped behind his back. Sherlock didn't turn as she stood beside him. 

"He's going to be fine." 

Sherlock didn't move, just stared out the window. That scent, vanilla and mint stared to filter through the flat at the sound of his mate in distress. A sharp cry was heard from the bedroom that broke into sobs and it took all of Sherlock's control not to run to him, but he didn't want to have a broken jaw either. 

"You..."

And it hit him. Tea leaves and. Sherlock inhaled. And John. He had a scent all of his own and it always took his breathe away. Mycroft holding the very pregnant man up. 

"You selfish, self-centered." John groaned, jerking from the hold. "Bastard." Sherlock knew better than to move. John's small stature and temper were not to be matched. 

The room filled with Sherlock's pheromones and it took Greg's breathe away. He's been standing by the door, quietly. 

"You..."

Sherlock took several small steps forward. John's hand resting on his chest, his other on his belly as another contraction ripped through his body. John's fingers clenched around that purple silk shirt. "How could you..." John's voice so small as steel blue eyes pierced the pale. "I needed..." A small pause. "Need you." He didn't even know he had started to cry. A slender hand rose and supped John's cheek, a thumb rubbing away the moisture.

"I'm so very sorry, John." 

If it wasn't for the raw emotion that shone in Sherlock's eyes, John most likely wouldn't have believed it. Overwhelmed, John's body couldn't take it. Sherlock caught him before his body hit the floor.

\----------

John didn't remember being brought back to the bed. Didn't remember when a pair of skinny but strong arms wrapped around him. Didn't remember when the tears stopped. He's be angry later. A hand running down the small of his back, god that scent bringing the comfort that he needed.

John's strong hand wrapping around Sherlock's arm. A stronger contraction then the last.

"Breathe for me, John." 

That baritone voice finding his nerves and causing the air to be exhaled from his lungs with a moan. Sherlock's hand came to rest on his belly, feeling the little movements.

"Hurts."

"I know. It's early. Help me slow it down a little. Concentrate on my voice."

John could feel Sherlock's thumb rubbing small circles over stretched skin.

"I'm a fool." He leaned his forehead against his mate's. "I did it to protect and look at what I almost lost." 

"Don't."

It was soft. Those lips meet his own and it took his breathe away. These were the little moments that John loved. When Sherlock's walls were down and he let his sentiment show through. The room exploding with their mixed scents making Mycroft shift uncomfortable on the sofa. John's hand tangled with those dark curls only to grip them hard. A sharp pain, longer this time and he couldn't help but break the kiss and scream with the intensity of it. 

"I've got you. Always." 

They both knew how risky it was for John to get pregnancy in the first place. They would make it through this.

"I love you, bloody git."

John finally drew a breathe as the pain subsided.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated. I don't know yet if there are going to be more chapters or if this is going to be part of a series. 


End file.
